


Through the Darkness

by pixiescanfly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Addiction, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood, Bloodplay, Established Relationship, Gore, Harm to Animals, Insecurity, Kink Shaming, M/M, Masochism, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiescanfly/pseuds/pixiescanfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark magic is addictive. Blaise knows this. He knows the dangerous line that they're forcing him, and everyone else, to walk between sanity and insanity during their last year at Hogwarts. And he knows that warping their relationship is all that's keeping him and Theo from the unforgiveable.</p>
<p>For now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic on this site, so I apologise profusely if I've done anything wrong with the formatting, warning system, tagging, or anything else. 
> 
> All faults are my own. Everything recogniseable belongs to others. 
> 
> Enjoy. xx

_Three weeks into term._

He was invited to an extra Dark Arts lesson that evening. He knew the dangers of the Dark Arts. Practicing them was addictive. He could see the Carrow's plan. They wanted to get the Slytherin's addicted, make it impossible for them to live without using the Dark Arts, and then indoctrinate them and make them Death eaters. He couldn't let them do it.

'Professor.' There were few professors that he trusted to be adept enough to read between the lines and help him. Slughorn, the obvious choice, was too closely linked to Slytherin, and liked them too much. It would never be convincing if it was him. This way was much better.

'Yes, Mr. Zabini?' Professor McGonagall glared at him over the tops of the papers she was grading.

'I would just like to let you know that I didn't hand in my Transfiguration assignment today because I was too busy preparing for my extra lesson in the Dark Arts with Professor Carrow tonight. I know it's a serious offence to neglect Transfiguration, and you'd normally give me a detention for not doing the work, but in this case I think leniency is in order, due to the extenuating circumstances.' He looked her straight in the eye, praying that she would understand what he was getting at, begging her to help him.

'Mr. Zabini. I cannot simply allow you to fall behind in Transfiguration. There is no favouritism in this class. You did not do the work. You will have detention. Tonight at 6. Be punctual.' She continued to level an icy glare at him. He nodded briskly, the only acknowledgement he could give of his gratitude.

'Mr. Zabini,' she called out as he was about the leave the room.

'Yes, Professor?'

'If any of your classmates also think that they are somehow exempt from the school regulations, and feel that neglecting to do homework for my class or any other class in this school can be excused, please remind them of the consequences of that decision. I believe I speak for most of the other professors at this school when I say that there is no excuse for neglecting your education. If you don't do the work for any class, you will receive a detention, I assure you Mr. Zabini. And it will have to take priority over any extra lessons you are committed to. Do you understand me?'

'I do, Professor. I'll be sure to let the others know.'

He left the room, smiling. Her offer was generous. She had declared that she and the other staff members were willing to give them detentions at will to allow them to escape from Dark Arts lessons.

Of course, if they did it too often it would be noticed, but at least they had some leeway, some way to avoid the addiction. That would have to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The addiction detailed in this story is fictional. I have completely invented how it works, its symptoms and the repercussions of such an addiction. This fic is in no way intended to discuss real life addictions, withdrawl symptoms or anything else related to this subject- in fact I know very little about them so please don't think this fic is anything near realistic in it representations. I have no expertise or experience in this field and if you want information on this subject, please go to google before me. 
> 
> In short: The addiction depicted here is fictional and magical and is thus not intended to mirror any form of addiction in real life.


	2. Chapter Two

_Two months into term._

A strange light was coming from the room as Blaise entered it. It came from behind Pansy's curtains. He drew his wand as he crossed to them, pulling them back and gasping.

Theo had his wand out and was levitating a rat in front of him, peeling the skin from it layer by layer with a cruel sounding spell that he repeated, over and over again. His eyes were dead and haunted and his hands were shaking. Tears streamed down his face as he repeated the curse again, pulling another layer of skin from the rat which promptly disintegrated into the air around.

Blaise acted quickly. He grabbed Theo's wand from his hand and threw it onto the floor, physically restraining the other boy who tried to throw himself after it. He threw the mutilated rat out of the bed for good measure, yanked the hangings closed and dropped down on top of the near hysterical Theo.

'How many Dark Arts lessons have you had recently?' he asked, trying to get his friend to focus on him.

'Three this week, plus two extra sessions. He scheduled it during break. I couldn't get detention from Flitwick in time. Then he made me cruciate Longbottom in Muggle Studies, trying to show off what I'd learnt.' Theo was shivering, his hands twitching against Blaise's back as he struggled involuntarily beneath him. Luckily, Blaise was bigger and stronger, his magic not nearly as depleted as Theo's. He had little trouble holding the other boy down as he struggled.

'You're pretty close to addicted then.' He concluded, watching the tears streaming down Theo's face as it contorted with anger.

'You don't say! I was craving it so badly when I got back here. I nearly cruciated the first years. It was all I could do to find a rat and kill it before the urge to rip it to shreds took over. I can't control it Blaise. I can't fight it. It's too much for me. Please, just let me hurt it. It's dead. It can't feel anything. I just need a little more, and then I'll be alright.'

'Theo...you know why I can't let you do that.'

'I'm going to end up addicted anyway! There's no way of avoiding it. Not with Carrow's Dark Arts lessons coming so frequently. They're asking us to cruciate the others in other lessons now as well. And they've realised about the detentions. We can't use that to get out of it. Please, Blaise. It hurts so much. I need it.'

'And what if you can't find a rat next time you get a craving? What if you hurt someone?'

'I won't. I promise.'

'You can't know that, and you'd never forgive me if I let you get addicted and that led to you hurting someone.'

'I'm already addicted, Blaise. There's nothing you can do to stop that now. And if you don't let me skin that rat, I'm going to hurt someone, I can feel it.' Blaise could see in his face that he wasn't lying, could see the hatred for what he had become and what he needed to do now.

He took a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, before leaning forwards and kissing Theo fiercely. Tongues and teeth battled, Theo's shakes making the whole experience slightly surreal, before Blaise pulled back and reached out for Theo's wand.

'Not that I'm complaining, mind,' Theo stated carefully, 'But I might wonder about the why...'

'This isn't your fault. They got you addicted to this shit. There's nothing wrong with you and I still love you, no matter what they force you to do. You understand that, right? You are so much more than this, and I promise you I will not judge you for anything you do while under the influence of this addiction, and when this hell is over, we'll get over it together. '

Clarity seemed to descend on Theo for a moment, pushing the self hate from his eyes as he nodded and Blaise sat back, letting him reach for his wand and the rat and settling himself beside his friend on the bed. Theo looked at him for a moment.

'I'm not leaving.' Blaise said hotly. Theo seemed to struggle for a moment between the all consuming desire to destroy and the wish to hide at least some of what he was becoming from his friend. The addiction won.

He pulled the curtains closed, levitated the rat and sliced off another layer of skin, feeling the dark magic rushing through him and gasping audibly in relief, tears of guilt falling from his eyes again as he revelled in the destruction flowing through him. Blaise reached out, taking Theo's free hand in his own and trying to control the nausea that he felt with every new layer of rat that disintegrated into nothing in front of him, trying to hide his disgust.

God, what was this year doing to them.


	3. Chapter Three

_Four months into term._

He was screaming.

You can't get used to the cruciatus, no matter how many times they use it. Thankfully, it hadn't been too many yet. He'd only been hit twice by the teachers. Once when he was caught out of bed after hours, hunting rats, and once when he'd been late for a Muggle Studies lesson. He'd had an extra session of Dark Arts just before, and it had taken Theo, a dark cupboard and three dead rats before he could be around people again.

The addiction was growing stronger. He should have known that they'd never be able to fight it. He'd held out two weeks longer than Theo before he'd begun to feel the gnawing, biting craving himself. It had been another week before it hurt too much to move, and two days more before he'd let Theo bring him a rat.

He'd been one of the last to succumb. Only Crabbe and Goyle lasted longer, and that was only because they hadn't been able to cast half as many dark spells as the others to begin with. Now every Slytherin from fourth year upwards had an unhealthy addiction to causing pain, and that made the Slytherin Common Room a rather dangerous place to be.

That was where he was screaming now, under the wand of Daphne Greengrass. She'd been twitching all day, barely able to concentrate in lessons, skipping dinner. She hadn't spoken for nearly six hours now. He could see the third year she'd been watching, see the calculation in her mind, and he couldn't let it happen.

So he was writhing and screaming on the floor of the Common Room instead, and cursing the Carrows, and Snape, and Daphne, and the Dark Lord, and everyone and everything that had ever or ever would exist and hoping against hope to keep his sanity at least.

And then it was over. Blissfully, beautifully, wonderfully over. He blinked, trying to focus his eyes again. Daphne was unconscious. Theo stood over her, shaking with need but refusing to submit. The rest of the house was looking away, giving him at least the dignity of pretending they hadn't just heard him screaming in agony.

'Theo?' he croaked. No response.

'Theo,' he called louder. Theo spun on the spot, wand in hand, glowering, but Blaise knew it wasn't directed at him. There was Dark magic in the air, everyone was craving now. He noticed suddenly that the other sixth and seventh years had left the room sometime when he was screaming, fleeing the rampant magic leaking from the curse. All the others except Theo.

Arms encircled him and he wondered when Theo had reached him. He allowed himself to be hauled to his feet and carefully took a step away, balancing for himself, knowing the importance of appearing strong. He looked at Daphne's unconscious form, splayed across the floor and felt a stab of pity. He knew exactly how she'd felt. He'd been on the verge of cursing first years more times than he could count. But for Theo, he'd have done it and that terrified him.

'Take her to bed, Greengrass,' he threw the comment to Daphne's little sister, who was currently busy not looking at him.

Then he turned and shakily staggered from the room, stumbling into his dorm and collapsing on his bed, not even bothering to draw the curtains. Theo was long gone, leaving the room with the others the moment Blaise was back on his feet.

Blaise just hoped he could find a rat fast enough.

XxXxXx

An hour later he felt a presence slide into bed next to him and smiled, shifting to make more space. Theo was cold, but he wasn't shaking. That meant...

'Which curse did you kill it with?'

'Caput occido' Theo's voice was tired but emotionless as he settled next to Blaise. Blaise rolled over and threw an arm around his waist, resting his head against the cool shoulder beside him.

'Spurt or splatter?' he asked dryly.

'Neither. It just dripped. Pathetic.' Blaise snorted in agreement, trying to curb the sick fascination he was feeling, trying to keep it out of his imagination, trying to stop himself from shivering with need. He should be disgusted. The 'caput occido' curse was horrific. It sliced the head of its victim in half and preserved their life until they bled to death from the wounds. One of the Hufflepuffs had been physically sick when they had been shown the curse on a chicken in Dark Arts.

'How you feeling?' Theo asked after a moment's pause. Blaise sighed.

'Fine.'

'No you're not. You just got cruciated. Damn it, Blaise. You knew she was craving. What the hell were you thinking, going anywhere near her? You reek of Dark magic, you know that right? It's practically impossible not to start craving when you get near any of us' Blaise knew that all too well. It was one of the reasons that his gut was beginning to churn now. Theo stank of Dark magic too. He'd just performed one hell of a curse, and the after effects that lingered on his skin were enough to set Blaise off. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, focusing on the task in hand.

'I know. You didn't see how she was looking at little Henrietta Flint. She may be a brat on occasion, but that hardly warrants a cruciatus. I was doing the Gryffindor thing, rescuing the damsel in distress.' Blaise answered flippantly. Theo remained silent.

'She was only a third year!' he tried. Theo was still silent. Blaise sighed and swallowed, knowing Theo would never judge him.

'I didn't mean to do it.' He admitted finally. 'I was just going to suggest she take it outside before she hit someone. I didn't know I was enough to trigger her off. I haven't done anything in at least a day. I didn't think she was close enough to the edge to snap like that. I didn't expect it.'

Theo's hand was in his hair now, stroking gently. He felt himself beginning to unravel.

'It scared me, Theo.' He whispered into the other boy's shoulder. 'It hurt and it scared me and I hated it, because I didn't expect her to do it to me. She's my friend. I know she couldn't help it but... she cruciated me... and it hurt. And she's my friend.'

The silence held for a few moments, Theo stroking Blaise's hair comfortingly and Blaise revelling in that contact.

'Never.' Theo's whisper was fervent, livid. Blaise was taken aback, confused.

'Never what?' he asked.

'I promise I'll never do that to you. No matter how bad this gets, I promise I'll never use the cruciatus on you. Ever.' He kissed the top of Blaise's head before continuing to stroke his hair. He sounded so sure that Blaise believed him.

That, at least, was something to hold on to this year.


	4. Chapter Four

_Christmas Holidays_

It was difficult to avoid the rumours over the holidays. Harry Potter had been sighted here, there and everywhere, doing god knows what. Even the upper echelons of Pureblood society heard about it, in carefully clipped whispers and specially warded rooms. Blaise didn't believe a word. Harry Potter was a schoolboy, younger than he was. He was long dead in a ditch somewhere, or had fled, or was being hidden by whatever followers Dumbledore still had. There was no hope to be had in Potter.

Blaise sailed through the parties of the holiday season in a daze, the addiction torturing him in the presence of so many dark witches and wizards. He couldn't be in the same room as a Death eater without getting shaky, which made dinner with the extended Malfoy family a somewhat tense affair. He couldn't taste a single morsel of the food in his mouth, and barely heard the conversation passing over his head between his mother and the Black sisters.

The floo home, pressed against his mother's side made his skin scream. He could barely managed to reach his bedroom before he lost all control.

XxXxX

He woke up the next morning with his mutilated owl dead in her cage and blood all over his carpet, his bed and his walls. He stumbled out of bed and into the fireplace, calling out for the only person who wouldn't judge him.

He went to see Theo.

He stumbled out of the floo and into Theo's room, bloodstained and near hysterical. Theo was awake in seconds, the magic that still clung to Blaise enough to pull him awake.

'Wha...? Whose blood is that? What did you do?' he asked, eyes snapping open, one hand going straight to his wand and the other fisting in his bedclothes in an effort to control himself.

'Artemis. Found her this morning. Blood everywhere. Must've...'

'You had dinner with the Malfoys last night, didn't you?' Theo was sitting up properly and stretching, his grip on the bedclothes relaxing as he mastered the craving.

'Yeah. Unbearable. The kick you get from three dark marks, plus all four of them are up to their eyeballs, and then there was mother...' he shivered at the memory of it.

'Come on. You're covered in blood.' Theo stood and Blaise followed him through to the bathroom, barely aware of what was going on. The previous night was playing through his head again and again. Blood and violence and the urge to hurt and maim and destroy. Unearthly screeching in his ears and feathers in his hands as he held the struggling bird still. Life in his hands, literally. Precisely formed words of torture on his lips, stinging his tongue with that familiar, longed for pain...

Lips crushed against his and dragged him from the memory, soft where it had been hard, rough where it had been insidious. His eyes opened to Theo's, concern written across his face.

'Sorry. Phased out. Memories.' Blaise explained, shrugging uncomfortably, trying not to think about it, trying to keep himself in a reality where the blood smearing his hands disgusted him. Tried not to stare at the spots where it had smudged onto Theo's pristine skin. Tried not to imagine licking it off, because that was disgusting.

He was disgusting. He was a killer.

Theo's hands were on his shirt before he could think, undoing the buttons with rabid efficiency, blood smearing further onto his hands. Part of Blaise wanted to stop him, not to let him besmirch himself with the taint of the murder, but he couldn't. His shirt fell from his shoulders and he lifted his gaze to Theo's, seeing the slightly parted lips, the rapid breath and knowing, impossibly, what it meant.

'You taste like blood.' Theo breathed, 'Did you like...drink it or what?' Hot red liquid sliding down his throat, feeding the dark beast within. Ecstasy. Tears starting in his eyes with the knowledge of what he was doing, self hatred and grief, for himself and the life he was taking. He looked away from Theo, ashamed, unable to admit it. Blood coated fingers caught his chin.

'It wasn't you. They gave you this addiction. They did this to you.' The truth shone in Theo's eyes and Blaise breathed in that forgiveness for a moment, before the blood slicked fingers slid into his hair and his bloody lips were claimed again.

Theo gasped when they broke apart a moment later, 'I want to taste it. So, so badly right now. Whatever you are, I am too. Remember that.' He kissed Blaise soundly again on the mouth before sliding down onto the cold, stone floor, trailing his tongue through the blood as he went, swallowing it down and leaving a trail of clean skin across Blaise's chest.

'We go to Hell together,' he breathed, but by this point Blaise could barely hear him.


	5. Chapter Five

_Five months and two weeks into term_

Hell was getting worse.

The smell of Dark Arts lingered in every classroom, every corridor. The cruciatus was being used freely whenever the students were alone. It wasn't just the Slytherins who were addicted now. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were being eroded, confused and without control. They'd never thought they'd need the Dark Arts. They'd never been warned of the dangers. They didn't have the pragmatism necessary to divert their addictions. They were just trying to resist and breaking.

The younger students travelled in packs, avoiding anyone older than them. A vain attempt to escape the violence. Blaise saw the looks of distrust that passed from younger siblings to their addicted elder counterparts. Christmas, he supposed. Most family homes did not come equipped with ready supplies of animals to torture and murder.

Blaise had resorted to going rat catching every other night. He alternated with Theo, each remaining in bed while the other slaked their dark lusts elsewhere. They dared not venture into the void together any more. Blaise secretly feared what he would do to Theo if they were together when he indulged. Theo's promise, still held close in his mind, sustained him. He had felt the cruciatus at the hand of many of his friends now; Daphne, Draco, Pansy, the younger Greengrass girl, Flint, Bulstrode, Avery, Pucey...

He was on one of his rat catching missions now. He slipped through the upper castle, avoiding the dungeon corridors that he knew were filled with Slytherins prowling for something to hurt. It was harder to find rats up here, but worth the risk.

He focused on his task, the wild hunger for destruction surging through him. He was shaking, barely in control. Another reason why he had avoided the dungeons- contact with another who stank of the darkness would have pushed him beyond reason. The sound of breathing made him freeze, hunger for blood surging through his veins. He would kill it, he would hurt it, he would make it bleed and beg for mercy.

He took a deep breath, forcing the feelings back, gasping with the effort as he turned to face the breathing.

'Longbottom.' He hissed, recognising the Gryffindor despite his attempts to disguise his identity. He saw the figure stiffen and grinned maliciously. Obviously the other boy had had faith in his disguise.

'Zabini. What brings you to our side of the castle in the middle of the night?' Typical Gryffindor, too arrogant or too stupid to realise the extent of the threat posed to him.

'Leave, Longbottom, or I'm going to hurt you.' Blaise hissed between gritted teeth, thankful that his wand wasn't in his hand. If it had been, Longbottom would have been writhing on the floor by now.

'You threatening me, Zabini? You really think that you could take me? Are you stupid enough to risk attacking me alone in a corridor in the middle of the night?' Longbottom's eyes were flashing dangerously now.

'You really are blind in Gryffindor. You think that this is a choice?' Blaise's voice was weary. Longbottom looked taken aback. Blaise bristled. It went against his nature to reveal weakness to the enemy like this, but then it served to reduce his chances of being further hurt in the future.

'You are protected by their hatred of you house. They do not even try with you, because they know they will fail. You would refuse them because you are brave and stupid. That is why they do not try to corrupt your house with the addiction of the Dark Arts.'

Longbottom remained silent for a moment, weighing Blaise's words. He was shocked. He hadn't expected a Gryffindor to be so mature. But then, this year had aged them all.

'What are you telling me this for?'

'You think they'll stop at Slytherin? The addiction's the easiest way to get us under control and into his service. If we crave violence, where else can we get it but from him? They want all purebloods to follow him and to be bound to him so tightly that they can't escape. You will all be killed when you leave Hogwarts. They know they have no chance of converting you.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, they are not so sure of. Some will find the foolishness to refuse, like you do, but others will understand self preservation. They try to manipulate them into the addiction without letting them become aware until it is too late.

They have no control over it. They were never trained in how to manage it, because they never expected to have it. You don't even know that Dark magic is addictive, growing up in your ignorant 'good' families. I am telling you now, so that you can find control. I have no wish to see death in the corridors, especially when the victims are my friends, as they will be if you succumb to the addiction.

Be wary when they ask you to perform Dark magic. It seeps into your mind. And try to control those who are already addicted. We know they look to Gryffindor for leadership.'

'Wha...how?'

'Give them rats to kill. There is no point in hiding from the addiction now. We are too surrounded by dark magic to give it up. When they leave, if they are still alive and sane, lock them wandless in a room for as long as you dare, until they begin to scream in agony and vomit blood, and then keep them there for a week. That should be long enough for the hold to break, though it will never completely release them.' Longbottom looked horrified, but Blaise had to admire the steely glint in his eyes. He would force them to. He would do it, Blaise knew that with certainty. This boy had changed from the cowering wreck that he had been. Blaise took a small step forwards and caught Longbottom's scent. He smelled of smoke and cruciatus.

'Longbottom...'

The other boy turned back to him, round face full of concern at the break in Blaise's voice. He took a step closer before collapsing in silent screams. Blaise exhaled as the darkness overtook him and he allowed it to soothe his shaking body. Unwillingly, he ended the curse and looked down at the boy on the floor in front of him, only to see a man returning his gaze, already pushing himself up to sitting.

'You stink of Dark magic. They've used too much on you. Stay away when people are craving. It's too easy to lose control.'

'Moreso, I suppose, when you have no conscience or compassion stopping you. I wonder why Slytherin got addicted first.' He answered levelly, his voice gravely and his breath shallow.

'Do not put too high a store by conscience. It is only love that has ever stopped anyone that I know from torture. It's the only force I'd trust.' He answered and left, leaving the battered Gryffindor on the floor, hating what he had just done but knowing it had been necessary for both of them. Perhaps now the Gryffindors were aware of what was happening in the school, there could be some sort of control, they could find a measure of peace.

Or at least those free from the strangling hold of the darkness could.


	6. Chapter Six

_Six months and two days into term_

He was late as he ran up the stairs. Too late, and to the worst possible lesson. Dark Arts with Amycus Carrow. The damn addiction had hit hard and fast during breakfast and he'd had to duck away from his fellow Slytherins when the shaking started. He hadn't found anything to kill, and, when a frantic look at his watch had warned him of his lateness, he'd had to give up the search. Now he was running full pelt up the stairs, aware of the biting craving still not satisfied in his bones and the gnawing hunger reminding him that he couldn't remember when he'd last eaten. The Great Hall wasn't exactly safe anymore and he was too busy scrounging rats these days to go to the kitchens after hours.

He reached the door fifteen minutes after class started and took a moment outside the doors to collect himself and prepare himself for the clawing stench of Dark magic and the cruciatus that he knew he would receive on opening the door. Then he pushed the door open.

Carrow's eyes swivelled to his the moment he entered. The rest of the class barely even looked up from their desks. Seventh year Dark Arts was a constant battle over the addiction. It was the only lesson where the Slytherins did not keep their wands up their sleeves. They simply couldn't afford the temptation.

'You're late Zabini' Carrow spat. Blaise was vaguely shocked that the man remembered his name.

'Yes sir.' There was no point in excuses. No point in anything really. All he could do now was try and avoid saying anything to make it worse. That was the lesson that had taken the longest to learn. There was nothing he could do or say that would stop it. Some of the Ravenclaws were still trying, relying on reason where it didn't belong.

'Crucio' Just because he'd been expecting it didn't make it hurt any less. Pain raced through his limbs. It ignited the dark fire already ripping through his veins and he drowned in it. Dark magic ebbed and thrummed around him as he screamed and convulsed on the floor and he did the unthinkable. He opened his eyes and his mind and his magic and accepted it. The craving for darkness in his veins reached out, hungrily drinking in the ample darkness splintering his skin.

And then it was gone and he breathed again. He'd expected the blessed relief. He'd expected the residual ache. He'd even expected the shaking running through his finger. He hadn't expected the feeling of loss.

He lay on the floor for a minute, panting and confused. Arms pulled him up and dragged him to the nearest seat, one that had been left empty since the first time someone was late, dropping him into it. Daphne Greengrass, who the arms belonged to, was studiously ignoring him from the seat next to him, hands fisted in the hem of her robe. Carrow had forgotten him and turned back to the class.

He didn't notice he'd bitten through his lip until the blood dripped onto the desk in front of him; he was too busy trying to understand what had just happened and what it might mean, for him, for Theo, and for everybody else.


	7. Chapter Seven

_Six months and two days into term_

Theo was shaking against his side as they lay together that night. He shouldn't have been. Blaise did some quick calculations. Theo shouldn't have been craving until tomorrow night at the earliest. That worried him. He rolled over quickly.

'Theo...'

'Yeah?' the other boy asked through gritted teeth, not moving or looking at him.

'Why're you like this now? Did you skip out on a rat or something?' he asked, getting more concerned with each passing moment.

'No.' Theo's reply was short, clipped, like it was being forced out through gritted teeth, which, in all honesty, it probably was.

'Then what's going on?' Theo remained silent. Blaise's worry only increased.

'Theo. Tell me. The only way we're going to get through this is if we're honest with each other.'

'Really?' Theo snapped, his head jerking up so his eyes met Blaise's, 'And when were you planning on being honest with me about what happened in Dark Arts?' Blaise blinked, completely nonplussed, not really sure what Theo was referring to.

'What are you on about?'

'You. When Carrow hit you with the Cruciatus, something weird happened. All of us felt it. It was like... you were drawing it in or something. The atmosphere suddenly became way less Dark. It was like I could breathe again. And then the minute it stopped it was like you became bloody radioactive or something. You have no idea how much you stink of Dark magic right now, do you?'

'So do you! So do we all!'

'Not like this. It's different. Right now you're worse than both the Carrows put together, worse than you were at Christmas even. Being this close to you is making my skin crawl. I want to know what the hell is going on Blaise.'

Blaise lay for a moment, totally confused.

'Alright. Alright. Well, you know I was craving before class. I couldn't find anything, so when I turned up I was struggling. And then he hit me with the Cruciatus and it was like... the bit of me that wanted Dark magic accepted that instead.'

'I don't get it.' Theo muttered from beside him.

'Me neither. I've never heard of anything like it before, but then, I've never heard of anyone unwillingly developing a Dark Arts addiction either. Maybe it's because I don't want to hurt anyone, or maybe because it couldn't get enough for the magic I do myself, it started feeding on the magic that is cast on me. I don't know Theo. You know me better than anyone else. You've seen what this does to me. If I knew a way to get out of having to use those spells, don't you think I would have used it before now?'

The crack in his voice was enough to bring shaking arms around him, although Theo resolutely kept his head as far from Blaise as possible.

'I know you would have. I know.' Theo's voice was beginning to shake.

'Go find a rat, Theo. You're not going to last until morning.' He said, gently removing the arms, knowing that hugging him was bringing untold agony.

'I know but...'he trailed off.

'But what? Don't suffer more than you need to from this. You wouldn't need this if you weren't this close to me. Go.'

'I hate this. I hate the skulking and the hiding and I hate the dead rats. I hate blood and I hate the gore and I hate the spells and the smell. God the smell. And I hate the part of me that loves it. I hate that we can't be together properly anymore because we're too afraid of what losing control might mean. You know I drank rat blood the other day? It was dripping down my chin and it felt so damn good and I caught myself wishing you were there because fuck I was so turned on by it and it scares me and it disgusts me when I look at what I am and I can't do it anymore. I don't care if they kill me. I refuse.' Theo was shaking harder now and there were tears in his eyes. Blaise pulled him upright so they were facing one another, his hand holding tightly to Theo's.

'Whatever you are, I am too. Remember when you told me that?' Theo was shaking his head, refusing to listen.

'Look, we can't get rid of this until we're out of here. We've only got 5 more months and then we can leave the country and detox, together, like we promised, but until then it would be madness to try and resist. They'll kill you and I couldn't handle that. Please Theo. Just give in. It's only for the next few months. I promise I won't think any less of you. Nothing you could do would make me think less of you. Neither will anyone else in Slytherin. We're all doing the same as you.'

'But I like it.' Theo whispered. Blaise's heart broke at the self-loathing and disgust he heard in those four short words. He leant forwards and cupped Theo's chin, forcing him to make eye contact.

'So do I.' He answered, bringing their lips together hard enough to open the gash in his lip from his earlier bout of Cruciatus. Blood seeped out and into his mouth and Theo's. He felt the shiver run down Theo's back a moment before he pulled away.

'See. A little bit of blood and I can barely control myself. I can't keep doing this. I won't keep hurting people. I'm going back to my own bed, where I won't hurt you. Because right now I can barely stop myself from grabbing my wand and bloody cursing you' He made to get up but Blaise grabbed his wrist, preventing him from leaving.

'No. You can't do this here. There's no way you'll manage it without them noticing and stopping you and it'll just make it harder to give up when we're out of here.' Theo tried to wrench his wrist free but Blaise pulled harder, forcing Theo back down into the bed.

'I won't hurt anyone. I can't do it anymore. I won't use those spells. I won't do it. I can't.' Theo was close to hysterical now. Blaise switched to hold him down by the shoulders, taking a deep breath, memories from earlier swirling around him and a plan occurring. A horrific plan, a plan he would never have considered a few months ago, an admission he would never have made had the situation not been so desperate but desperation was desperation.

'I'm only asking for one spell. No rats. No victims. One simple word. I promise.'

'I can't. I won't. No. I can't.'

'It's easy. You promised once to never use the Cruciatus on me, I'm gonna ask you to break that promise tonight.' He reached for Theo's wand, mentally preparing himself for the pain that was to follow.

'No, Blaise, I can't. I won't hurt you like that. It's horrific, inhuman, torture...'

'Theo...'

'I could never do something like that to you. We're...you're... you mean too much to me. I won't demean what we have. I can't let myself hurt you. I won't. I refuse.'

'Theo, I like it.'

Shocked silence.

'Since when?'

'Carrow this afternoon. When he stopped, it was relief, obviously, but there was a part of me, the same part that loves it when you kiss me til I bleed, the same part that tortures rats and murders owls and smears their blood all over the room, the part of me that attacked Longbottom, that part of me hated it when he let that Cruciatus end. That part of me was begging for another, for more.'

'So you're asking me?'

'You're craving it. You need it. You won't judge me. And I want to know...'

'What?'

'How deep it runs... how much I... if I really do... you know... like it.'

Theo took a moment, though the shaking and the craving and the haze built up by Blaise's offer were making it difficult to think clearly. Blaise sighed, knowing he would have to make this decision for Theo. He pressed the wand into the other boy's hand. His fingers clenched it convulsively and he flipped their position immediately. Blaise found himself slammed onto his back with a wand at his throat and a barely sane Theo straddling him, fingers white, barely keeping the words behind his teeth, glaring at Blaise. Violence and sex had never been more obvious in his features, overridden at the moment by fear. Blaise would have to change that.

'Imagine it,' Blaise murmured, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander, 'Me screaming and writhing in pain underneath you. Bleeding even. Completely yours to do with what you...'

'Crucio'

Logic and speech vanished. Exquisite pain and darkness ruled.


	8. Chapter Eight

_Six months and one week into term_

Transfiguration ended. Blaise sighed in relief, feeling the need for Theo- for the cruciatus- buzzing through him. It had been a while, long enough that he couldn't feel it in his bones, that he wasn't aching constantly anymore. Too long. Theo would be struggling too.

'Zabini. My office.' Mcgonagall said briskly. Blaise cursed inwardly. This really wasn't a good time. He was relatively sure he hadn't done anything wrong, not since he'd cursed Longbottom, but that had been months ago. He certainly hadn't been responsible for the stupidity with the Corner boy the week before. (Although watching... neither he nor Theo had slept that night, and they'd both felt so guilty the next morning that they'd distracted Carrow from one of the Ravenclaw third years and suffered the cruciatus in her place)

'Yes professor.' He answered dutifully and followed her to her office in silence, trying to quell the slight craving he was feeling and figure out what he'd done wrong. They reached the office and he entered, standing in front of the desk while she cast privacy wards and silencing and impertuable spells on the door. Now he really was nervous. What could he possibly have done that required that amount of secrecy?

'Umm... professor?' he began to ask but she glared at him and he fell silent while she finished her spellwork. Finally, the wards were in place and she made her way to her own seat behind the desk, sitting down facing him. She looked older and more exhausted than he had ever seen and a stab of pity shot through him, even though she was a Gryffindor, even though she sympathised with the mudbloods and the fools and the blood traitors.

'Mr. Zabini... would you like a cup of tea?' she began, transfiguring two quills on her desk into teacups and an ink bottle into a teapot and beginning to pour out tea.

'No thank you, professor.' He answered politely, beginning to consider that perhaps he wasn't in trouble, that this was about something else. His conversation with Longbottom months ago flashed through his mind and he brought his guard up a notch higher.

'Typical Slytherin.' She smiled sadly, pouring a single cup of tea and leaving the other empty 'Never take a drink from a stranger. I'm not going to poison you, Zabini.'

'I know that m'am.' He answered, still refusing to take the offer for tea. There were some habits that were too ingrained to forget, especially in times like this.

'I suppose you want to know why you're here,' she sighed and took a sip from her mug.

'Why don't you tell me?' Blaise answered.

'You already know, don't you?' she peered at him shrewdly over her teacup. He was somewhat reminded of Pansy Parkinson, it was such a Slytherin look.

'Why don't you tell me and then we'll find out.' Blaise hedged, not wanting to admit to what had happened with Longbottom if she didn't already know. In normal times, the curse he'd used merited life in Azkaban. Even if the government had somewhat different ideas these days, she was part of the old order. She would condemn that curse just as greatly as they had.

'Well played, Mr. Zabini. Very well. On the night of the... incident with Mr Corner,' her mouth thinned until her lips were invisible as she spat the words. Blaise could hear the powerless rage within her at the treatment of someone she was sworn to protect, but then she collected herself and it was buried, 'I was stunned to be patrolling the corridors in Mr. Filch's... absence and to stumble across a large group of my elder Gryffindors, as well as many Ravenclaws and several Hufflepuffs in one of the corridors near to the kitchens.'

Well, considering the waves of Dark magic sent off when Corner had been tortured in front of them, it was hardly surprising that half the school had been rat catching that night. Still, they'd been idiots. Hunting in large groups made you easier to catch, plus it just amplified the cravings and scared the rats off. Blaise carefully kept his face neutral.

'I accompanied them all back to their dormitories and didn't deem it necessary to alert our Headmaster, since they were all being so obliging and apologetic and he was doubtless tired from his exertions that day.' Mcgonagall's meaning was clear. She had protected the students from Snape's wrath, but the Carrows would do no such thing if they caught the Gryffindors out of bed. Still, that wasn't Blaise's problem. Not unless they were tortured in front of him. If they were going to be idiots and get caught out of bed, that was their choice, their fault. Nothing to do with him.

'Once we had returned to Gryffindor Tower, I asked Mr. Longbottom if he could explain his actions and his response was... interesting. Do you know what it was?' her eyes flashed fire and challenge.

'I couldn't begin to imagine.' Blaise answered, unwilling to trust her, despite everything she was still a Gryffindor.

'He said he was there on your recommendation. That he and his classmates had been forced into an addiction to the Dark Arts by some of my... colleagues and that you had warned him of the possibility and suggested he find rats to attack rather than accidentally curse his fellow pupils.' Her voice was carefully neutral. He respected that in a Gryffindor, but not enough to answer her. She took a sip of tea, waiting for him to answer before continuing.

'Zabini,' her voice and eyes had softened immensely and she looked old again, 'Is this true? Are you all... addicted to those horrific spells?' There was a sadness in her voice that made him feel profoundly uncomfortable.

'Yes professor.' He answered formally, clenching his hands into fists. He struggled talking to anyone other than Theo about this, even those who were in the same boat. She was a professor who had probably never used a dark spell in her life. She had no idea what it felt like, no idea of the rush. She couldn't comprehend and he hated having to explain. She nodded at his answer, accepting his word. (When had he become an authority?)

'Is there any way that you would be able to break that addiction?' she asked, businesslike, but still with that aching, exhausted sadness in her eyes.

'Yes professor, but it requires several weeks of seclusion and will remain impossible until after the end of school. I've told Longbottom how to do it. He'll sort the Gryffindors out and pass on the information.' He answered emotionlessly, trying not to think about the upcoming ordeal.

'Good... Good. I'll have to ask him about that' She answered and took another sip of her tea. Silence ruled for a few moments. Blaise didn't have anything else to say to this witch, and his craving was itching just under his skin, but he wasn't stupid enough to just walk out on Minerva Mcgonagall, no matter what happened. Eventually she put her teacup down.

'You need rats to control this, Mr. Zabini? Will that keep the students safe?' she asked.

'It'll stop them from attacking each other, and keep the cravings at bay.' He answered truthfully, 'It won't stop them from needing to perform the curses. In fact, it'll probably make the addiction worse in the long run, but it's a temporary solution, yes.'

'Very well, I'll talk to Mr. Longbottom. You are all absolutely forbidden from leaving your common rooms after hours. After the incident with Mr. Corner, our headmaster has taken it upon himself to make absolutely sure that no student is out of bed after hours. My Gryffindors were exceptionally lucky.'

Or exceptionally stupid. It wasn't like the Slytherins had been caught much, and they'd been rat catching for much longer. (Wasn't like getting caught would be a problem for him)

'However, I will arrange for a box to be delivered to each common room. I know some of the House Elves that would be suitable for performing such a task. How many rats do you think would be necessary?' she broke off. He blinked for a moment, experiencing a rare moment of confusion before remembering, understanding. A cat animagus finds rat catching much easier than the average human being, and a teacher (or a cat) can roam the halls at night as much as she pleases. She was going to catch rats for the entire school. Typical Gryffindor. Chivalry before practicality, but Blaise could see some merits to her plan.

'They won't need one every night. Not yet. For the Gryffindors I'd say about half of the top two years are affected...about 10 pupils, and they'll need a rat every five days or so, so two each day would do. In Hufflepuff... there are only about three or four addicted, so four rats every week would be enough. Ravenclaw's where there would be the greatest demand... about fifteen addicted and they'd need a rat every three or four days, five rats a day.'

'Very good, Mr. Zabini, but surely the greatest demand will be in Slytherin?' she answered.

'We'll get our own.' He answered hotly. She bristled.

'No you will not. Professor Carrow and Mr. Filch will not care what colour your pyjamas are if you are out of bed in them. I have no wish to see any of my students tortured, Mr. Zabini. How many rats do you need?' her lips were a thin line and the fierce quality had returned to her face. Blaise knew when he was beaten.

'Well... we've got 40 students in varying states of addiction.' Her eyes widened slightly at that, but he ignored her and carried on, 'Of those, eight are perfectly functional without needing to attack rats- they get everything they need from Dark Arts lessons. Of the rest, ten need a rat every five days, seven need a rat every three or four days, five need a rat every other day and eight need a rat every day. I'd say we get through 100 rats a week.'

Her face was blank and silent.

'I understand if you want to retract that offer.' He added. 'Our demand is a little excessive.' He hadn't even considered their effect on the rat population of Hogwarts until she'd asked him to calculate it for her. It was quite mind boggling if he was honest. It was a good thing that Hogwarts was a millennium year old castle and as such had a population of rats as large as most small cities.

'Your figures don't work.' She answered.

'What?' he asked, counting back through his head, giving a face to each number, Pansy and Daphne and Vince and Greg and Astoria and Draco and Millicent and all the others. 'My figures are right.'

'40 people addicted?' she asked, looking slightly sickened by that thought. He supposed she had a right to be. The only way that there would be enough Slytherins would be if the fourteen year olds were addicted too.

'Yes.'

'Eight on no rats, ten on one every five days, seven on three to four days, five on every other day and eight on every day. That makes 38. Who's missing and how many rats do I need to get them? I am not having any of you risking it. Tell me the truth, dammit Zabini! I'm trying to help.' He'd rarely seen her lose control before, but he could see the blind fear, the hatred and the guilt plainly written across her face. She blamed herself for letting it get so bad to begin with. She blamed herself that these children had to deal with an addiction that they hadn't chosen, to something horrific that was dangerous and should have been illegal and she blamed herself that the only way they had to deal with it meant risking even more. Blaise's resolve shuddered a little under the weight of her guilt as he realised why his calculation had been off. He'd missed off himself and Theo from the list.

'Those two... don't need rats.' He answered, begging her with his eyes to leave the topic alone.

'Zabini...' her tone was warning. He didn't trust her, not with the guilt running through her. He didn't know what she was capable of.

'They've found an alternative way of dealing with the addiction.' He hedged, trying to stick to the vague, 'It is highly unlikely that it would work for anyone else, or they would have passed on the message. Several others in Slytherin are aware of it and have tried it to no avail.' Blaise tried not to remember what that had felt like. So far, he was the only one that could channel the magic like he did. Theo had tried it the next time they'd been craving and while Blaise had thoroughly enjoyed the experience, Theo had hated every second. He'd run immediately and Blaise had found him throwing up in the nearest bathroom soon afterwards, still shaking with need. They'd told the others in seventh year, but only Pansy and Daphne had been willing to try. Neither of them had been able to channel as well as Blaise, but it had taken a bit of the edge off. Neither girl would choose to do it again though, preferring the pain free killing of rats, and Blaise didn't trust anyone other than Theo enough to allow them to torture him on a regular basis, so really, it didn't help any of the others in any way.

'It is not pertinent to this conversation. Suffice to say, they don't need rats.' He answered stiffly.

'This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you've been limping and wincing in my class a lot more often recently?' she asked, her gaze hard as steel again.

'Professor. It is not relevant to this conversation. Can we move on?' he snapped, defences at their height. She surveyed him and seemed to accept his decision.

'Alright Zabini. You can go. Please pass on the message to your housemates that they are not to leave the house after hours under any circumstances and...' she hesitated as he stood, 'My door is always open, should you require... assistance.' The silence pressed down on him like the weight of her gaze, 'Madame Pomfrey is obliged to report certain spells being used against her patients. Unforgiveables being one. I would just like you to know that I am under no such obligations and am a perfectly capable healer, if not up to her brilliant standard.'

'I have no need of such assistance, however, should a situation arise, I'll remember that. Thank you, professor.' And he was thanking her for so much more than the offer of healing.

'It's my duty, Mr. Zabini. Say what you will about us, but we Gryffindors do not shirk our duties.' She answered, rising and offering a hand which he took firmly for a moment before turning to leave. He reached the warded door when he heard a murmur of '... Albus...I'm so sorry...' behind him and looked back for a moment to see Professor Minerva Mcgonagall collapsed in her chair, head fallen into her hands, glassy eyed and fighting tears, oblivious to his presence.

He looked away and left as quickly as possible. He needed to find Theo, and then he needed to talk to the others.


	9. Chapter Nine

_Six months and three weeks into term_

Charms. Blaise was aching but calm. The addiction was quiet for once, buried deep underneath his consciousness by the activities of last night. Theo sat close beside him, similarly calm, sporting a dark bruise against his throat where Blaise had convulsively bitten him when the curse ripped through his body.

Professor Flitwick stood at the front, ignored by the majority of the class. Charms was a haven for most, the furthest classroom away from the concentrated areas- the Dark Arts classroom, the Muggle Studies classroom and the Dungeons- and presided over by one of the more understanding and helpful teachers. Blaise was the closest to relaxed that he could be this year, listening absentmindedly to a recap of Summoning charms that would apparently help them to master the more complicated Compilation charm, when a nudge from Theo brought him back to alertness.

'What?' he hissed. Most of the professors had become much more lax about class discipline since the Carrows had appeared. It was their way of rebelling- allowing minor disruption within their own jurisdiction.

'Patil.' He nodded to the girl in question who sat at the table over from them with Finnigan. Blaise looked and immediately realised what Theo meant. She was shaking. Hard. And her hands were fisted into her skirt, obviously to stop herself from reaching for her wand.

'Finnigan was hit this morning at Breakfast.' Theo hissed, and that explained some of it. Sitting in that close proximity to someone who'd been hit recently would have some sort of effect, but it shouldn't have been this bad, not unless...

'Last I heard there were no Gryffindor girls addicted. Not even the Weaslette.'

'Well, that's blatantly untrue...'

'But if she's in denial, then she's not been cursing rats.' The repercussions of that statement dawned on both of them at the same time.

'Shit. The whole of seventh year Slytherin's in here.'

'Plus Finnigan and Longbottom- I swear those two are fighting over who can get more cruciatuses.' Blaise said with a disgusted sneer.

'Which means she's about five minutes away from losing control and killing someone.' Theo muttered. Blaise raised his eyes to look at Theo and the horrified understanding passed between them. There was only really one option available to them beyond stunning her in the middle of a charms lesson.

'And I was having such a good morning...' Blaise sighed, trying not to let himself think of what his reaction to this plan would have been a year ago...six months ago...

'You don't have to. We can find another way. Chances are she'll hit Finnigan anyway. The world can do without his stupidity.'

'Chances are she'll hit Pansy, Theo. Or Daphne. That's who's in her direct line of fire, look, and I don't think they'd forgive us for letting a Gryffindor kill them.' He said, trying for humour before changing tack to grim determination, 'I'll do it. Fucking Gryffindors will owe me bigtime though.'

Ignoring Theo's protestations, he pulled out a quill and paper and jotted down a quick note, checking that Flitwick was occupied before levitating it over to where Patil sat shivering.

_You are addicted to the Dark Arts. Talk to Longbottom when you get out of here. You know you're not going to be able to last until the end of the lesson without attacking someone. You can feel it. Don't be a stupid Gryffindor and lie to yourself._

_In exactly one minute, you can use the cruciatus on me and the cruciatus ONLY. Cast under the table. Keep your wand out of sight and don't say anything about this. Ever. I mean it._

_Don't ever let yourself get into this situation again. I swear I will not help you next time._

_Zabini_

He saw the note land before dropping his wand onto the desk and looking to Theo.

'Silencer and Full Body Bind please.' He said, taking Theo's left hand in his right. Theo nodded resignedly, glared at the Gryffindors and hissed the spells under his breath. Blaise felt them take effect one after the other, breathing deeply in the prison of his body, inhaling the scent of Theo and Dark and remembering their pain and their blood and trying to work up enough of a craving to truly enjoy this. Bloody Gryffindors.

The curse hit him in the thigh and spread, searing through his body. He was thankful for the spells. He could never have kept this hidden without them. The agony was far from the exquisite pain (unbelievable pleasure) that it was when he was craving, and yet he knew it was different to how the cruciatus had felt all those months ago when he'd been screaming with pure pain on the Common Room floor under Daphne Greengrass.

And then it was gone and again he was thankful for the spells that kept him from collapsing forward onto the desk as the fire rushed from his veins and left him empty. He could feel Theo's hand in his again, could breathe freely, could see beyond the white sparks of pain that had overtaken his vision.

The silencer was removed first, then Theo's hand left his and came up over the back of his chair, grabbing his shoulder before the body bind was removed and catching him as he slumped. Theo was still glaring at the Gryffindors. Blaise turned his head to see Patil, eyes brimming over with tears of self disgust, wand lying forgotten on the floor. Bloody Gryffindor, if she'd just done what he'd recommended this would never have had to happen.

He sat in a hazy afterglow, feeling the tension ratcheting up around him until the lesson ended and Theo helped him out of his chair with shaking arms, practically carrying him out of the classroom. There was no point in pretending. Every Slytherin and half the Gryffindors in the room had felt the curse, and they were probably now rushing off to find themselves a rat or a first year or Mrs Norris to torture. Blaise's eyes were foggy as he rounded the corner, only to collide with Longbottom who had his arms full of a hysterical Patil.

'Look...Zabini... I'm so sor...'

'Don't.' Blaise spat, conscious that Theo's shaking was getting worse from the close proximity to the witch who had just cast the curse, 'I didn't do it for you. If you're ever that stupid again it's on your own head.' She looked down, tears spilling from her eyes as she buried her head against Longbottom's shoulder.

'That was...'

'I said don't, Longbottom. Now get out of our way before you get cursed.' Blaise spat at the other boy as Theo's arm tightened on his.

'Consider it payback for that night.' He finished less vehemently, catching Longbottom's eye to make sure he understood before wheeling around and dragging Theo away on unsteady legs, refusing to give them the chance to respond.

'Bloody Gryffindors.' He muttered under his breath before focusing on Theo, 'How you doing?'

'Need...' Theo managed, biting his lips and clenching his fists.

'Can you handle a rat? I don't think I'm gonna be able to...' Blaise whispered, hating that he couldn't help, hating what he was making Theo do, impotent hate, hate that had no purpose.

'Right now, don't care. Anything. Anything that bleeds.' Theo's eyes were blazing and his teeth were bared. Blaise tried not to let his breath hitch with fear (desire) and disgust (lust), instead turning on unsteady legs towards a broom cupboard on the third floor that Mcgonagoll had taken to leaving rats in at night. They wouldn't make the dungeons. It was the best he could do.

That was what this year had become. A long list of the best he could do.


	10. Chapter Ten

_Seven months into term_

'Blaise...' Theo looked up from the other side of the table, expression unreadable, eyes fixed on Blaise's.

'Yeah?' Blaise answered cautiously, no idea what this was about.

'Can we talk? In our room?' Theo asked. Blaise nodded and quickly packed up his things, following Theo from the room and enjoying the fact that nobody in Slytherin gave them a second glance. That was one of the only benefits of this year- when you were worrying every minute for your survival and your sanity, who was dating who became a somewhat secondary concern.

They reached the room and Blaise dropped his bag to the floor, reflexively casting silencing and locking charms before following Theo to his bed and sitting down on the edge of it.

'What's the matter?' he asked quietly, seeing Theo's gaze was fixed on the floor, 'You know you can tell me anything, right? Is it something to do with the addiction? You're not... but if you need...' Blaise himself wasn't craving right now, but he could deal with it for Theo's sake. He could summon up the urge if Theo needed to.

'No... it's not that. Well, it's related... I'm... Blaise is what we do... do you enjoy it? Is it enough for you?' he asked, eyes remaining firmly fixed on the floor.

'What do you mean? Of course it is.' Blaise answered, instantly on the defensive.

'Really?' Theo looked at him then and he could see the desperation, the confusion, the need in Theo's eyes. He froze for a moment. He owed it to Theo to think about this properly.

'Well... it's not bad.' He started, 'I mean... it's...good, however strange that sounds. I like doing it...' He hated how unsure he sounded.

'I just... we said when we started this that we were in it together, and we can't be unless I'm completely honest with you. The last few times it hasn't been enough for me.' Theo's eyes had returned to the floor.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that I can torture you to unconsciousness and still don't get control of the addiction completely. It doesn't even turn me on like it used to. I've been ducking into McGonagall's emergency rat cupboards for a few weeks now between times- ripping off their skin and breaking their bones and drinking their blood and feeling their hearts race as it coats my fingers and... ' His eyes were downcast, ashamed, as his voice trailed off. Blaise's breathing hitched and he grabbed Theo before he knew what he was doing and kissed him, hard, wrapping arms around him as he did so. It was a moment before Theo kissed back.

'It's been too long since I've done that.' Blaise remarked, 'You don't get to be ashamed, remember? I love you no matter what.'

'And I love you too... but...'

'No buts. We started the cruciatus because we both got something out of it, but mostly because I enjoyed it. If you're not getting something out of it any more, we'll find a solution. We can stop, if you need to.'

'No,' Too quick, too desperate.

'Theo... how often are you hitting the rats anyway?' Blaise asked cautiously. Theo hit him with a cruciatus two or three times a week. In his calculation, that was about the equivalent of two rats every day- by far the highest level of addiction of any Slytherin. Theo always seemed to need before he did. There had been several occasions where he had had to drink in Theo's darkness to get himself properly craving before Theo snapped and really hurt him. Theo couldn't need too many rats after that, surely. He was already at a scary level of addiction.

'Every day.' His eyes were resolutely fixed on the floor. Blaise's mind flipped for a moment.

'...shit, Theo. Why didn't you tell me before?' Blaise stuttered out.

'Because I was ashamed. I didn't want to tell you in case you thought I wanted it. In case you thought I was doing it for fun rather than because I had to. I'm not, but... but... I don't even know any more.'

'That's not all of it, though, is it? What aren't you telling me? Why did you bring me in here now? Please Theo, trust me.' Blaise was aware that he was begging now, but he didn't care.

'I... I wanted to ask... but I don't... I love you and... it's just hard. I didn't ask for this addiction. I didn't ask to cast the cruciatus on you. I know you like it but... it just feels... it feels too much like I'm taking advantage, and I know you don't always want it, and I don't always want it either. It's the addiction. I need the darkness and the pain and the horror, but... the cruciatus stopped working a while ago, at least, it doesn't work properly anymore. With the rats... I've been getting creative... going beyond... and it helps, it really does, but I couldn't... can't... I mean I can't actually hurt you like that, but I can't go without hurting you because... I know it's impossible to torture that many rats in a day, I know I would flip and attack someone, but I wouldn't be able to limit to the cruciatus because it's... Shit Blaise, you know you're fucked when the cruciatus has become too tame.' Blaise could see the tears dripping onto the floor between Theo's feet. He sighed and knelt, moving into that space himself, forcing Theo's eyes up to look at him, resting his arms on Theo's thighs.

'Hey...don't beat yourself up. It's probably my fault... I mean, it probably only happened because you did it to me so many times.' He replied, 'Don't you dare blame yourself for doing something I asked you to do.' He pulled Theo into a hug, sliding further between his legs to do so.

'We'll work something out. I promise.' He whispered as Theo's head collapsed onto his shoulder and tears started to soak into his shirt.

XxXxXx

'What about the cutting curse?'

They'd moved to stretch out next to one another on Theo's bed. Theo was still wrapped in the protective circle of Blaise's arms, head resting on his shoulder.

'What?' Theo's body tensed again.

'I mean...you said the cruciatus is too tame. Maybe it's not me, maybe it's the curse you're using. You said you got creative with the rats. Why not just get creative with me instead?' Blaise pondered aloud.

'Because those spells are really fucking dangerous, Blaise. Because I could kill you or seriously harm you when I did it, and because I wouldn't be able to stop if you said no when I was under the influence of the addiction.' Theo answered. Blaise lapsed into thought.

'What if we do it when you're not craving? At least... the first time? Then you'd be in control, be able to stop if you needed to. If I asked you to...' Blaise offered. Theo sat up and looked at him.

'But...isn't the whole point to satisfy the craving... if I'm not craving then what's the point?' Theo sounded genuinely confused.

'Look... you said it didn't turn you on anymore, right? So we can fairly reliably guess that what satisfies the craving has the side effect of turning you on. Therefore, if we do it when you're not craving and it turns you on, then we know that it'll get rid of the craving, right? I mean...killing rats still gets you hard, right? It's just me that doesn't.' He tried to keep all the hurt out of the last part of that, reminding himself that it wasn't about him, that it was nothing personal, it wasn't about their relationship, it was a physical reaction to a physical addiction.

'I'm sor...'

'Don't apologise. It's not your fault. Answer the damn question.'

'Yes it turns me on.' Theo answered, monotone.

'Good. Then we'll try it.' He answered and began to pull off his shirt. Theo scrambled away.

'Not now?'

'Why, are you craving too badly?'

'No, I had a rat on the way back from dinner, but...'

'No time like the present. We need to get this done before you're craving too badly, plus...'

'What?'

'Well... I wouldn't exactly mind if my boyfriend got turned on by me and not a rat when I was conscious for once. Do you have any idea how long it's been since we had sex, Theo? Not you casting the cruciatus and coming over my unconscious body?'

'Fuck Blaise, I..'

'Not that there's anything wrong with that. You know full well that I love it up until the point of passing out, but still some partnerwork might be appreciated...' He resumed pulling off his shirt, reaching up and pulling Theo into a kiss as he worked off the other man's shirt.

'You've got your wand, right?'

'Yeah...' Theo answered pulling it out of the pocket of his trousers before pulling them off and throwing them, along with the remainder of Blaise's clothing and his own shirt, off the bed.

Soon they were skin to skin, kissing ferociously, hands everywhere, scratching and pinching and caressing in equal measure until Theo broke the kiss.

'Not a fair test if I'm already hard. Gimme a sec.' He gasped, moving away from Blaise and schooling his thought and expression, fingering his wand and resolutely thinking about Snape's underwear. Blaise just lay there and watched him, happy that his state of arousal wasn't the one they'd be measuring, but wishing Theo would hurry up. He was nervous, but not afraid. He'd done some research since that night two months ago when he'd asked Theo to cast the cruciatus on him. There were words for what he was (masochist) and clubs and porn and everything. He was allowed to want to try this, and allowed to like it too. And he trusted Theo enough to stop if he said no. (Probably. And dammit if that uncertainty didn't make this hotter.)

'Alright.' Theo breathed and suddenly he was there, on top of Blaise, skin on skin, wand in hand, 'Where do you want this?'

'You're not meant to ask me where... bugger it all... somewhere that they won't be able to see it if we can't get it to heal by tomorrow.' (If I don't want it healed by tomorrow)

'Your wish is my command.' And a kiss to the lips and then...

'Secetare' And the wandtip sliced through his chest and he gasped and Theo gasped and jerked against his hip (Experiment successful) and blood trickled down his side onto the bedclothes while Theo's hand slid after it, catching the blood as it ran.

'You alright?' Theo whispered from above. Blaise could barely nod. Pleasurepain was building up inside him and Theo's hand (Theo's HAND) was smearing the blood a lot lower now. He reached up to respond in kind but Theo pushed his hands away with the wand.

'No. I need to keep focus. Can you stand another?' Theo whispered seductively in his ear and Blaise moaned as the wandtip came to rest on his lower stomach.

'Do it.' It was a challenge and Theo knew it and grinned, stroking the wand upwards without the incantation before slicing quickly down again.

'Secetare' Blood was spilling again. Blaise was shuddering with pleasurepain and Theo's hand had disappeared, replaced by his mouth, drawing a trail in blood down Blaise's chest again, like he had so many weeks and months ago, except this time it was his own blood coating Theo's fingers and sliding down his throat.

And then Theo's tongue slipped lower and Blaise's eyes slipped shut.

XxXxXx

Afterwards, they lay in the ruined bed, entangled together, sticky with blood and other things. Blaise sighed contentedly and tightened his hold.

'It's been too long...' he murmured.

'Huh?' Theo answered, somewhat groggily from beside him.

'Since we've been together properly. I've missed you Theo.' He kissed him softly as he said it, tasting his own blood on the other man's lips and feeling a stirring in his groin.

'You know... neither of us were craving when we started that...' Theo answered a moment later.

'So?'

'That makes it all us. We can't blame anything else for it.' He finished.

'I'm strangely ok with that. You?'

'Yeah... I suppose I am too.'


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Seven months and two weeks into term_

'Zabini' Blaise looked up, instantly on guard, dropping Theo's hand and grabbing his wand where it lay in his pocket before turning to meet the attacker. It was Professor Sprout. Blaise almost sighed. He had no patience with this equal opportunity, prissy, touchy-feely witch. That's why he'd dropped Herbology the moment he had the option- years ago now. There was no reason for her to be stopping him in the corridors.

'Yes professor?' he asked, warily, drawing closer to Theo almost without realising.

'Professor McGonagall wants to see you in her office as soon as possible. Alone.' She pointedly glared at Theo at that.

'May I ask why?' Blaise answered, knowing what it was about. There was only one subject that McGonagall had ever elected to discuss with him in private.

'She didn't specify.' Sprout answered coldly. Of course she hadn't. Knowing what half the students were up to in the darkened corners of the castle would probably burn this flimsy Hufflepuff's mind to ashes. She always saw the best in people, never acknowledged the darkness.

'Fine. I'll go, but Theo's coming.' He answered, grabbing Theo's hand and dragging him away towards the Transfiguration room before she could protest. Theo followed, sparing a worried glance for Blaise.

'Is this about...'

'Must be. Why else would she want to see me?' he ran through the possibilities in his head. Some problem with the rats, needing information, the Carrows had found out how they were escaping violence against one another...

All too soon they arrived at McGonagall's door and knocked. Blaise gripped Theo's hand tightly before letting it fall. Wouldn't give the right impression to walk in there holding hands when they didn't know what to expect. In fact, Blaise gripped his wand in his pocket again. It wouldn't help much in the event of an ambush by the Carrows, but it was better than being completely unarmed.

He was glad when the door finally opened that Theo hadn't taken the same precaution. The smell of blood and darkness hit them like a train, sending Theo to his knees and into a shaking fit. Blaise barely registered McGonagall's horrified face in the doorway before he had weighed the options and was dragging Theo inside while he shook on the floor. He hauled Theo inside and scanned the room, locating the body of some unfortunate laid out over the desk- the obvious source of the smell. Dammit. Why had she brought him here with that smell, knowing his cravings?

Well, nothing for it now. Theo needed. Worse than he'd ever needed before. He was shuddering all over from the effort of not whipping out his wand and blowing the room apart. And much as Blaise hated it, much as he wished he had any other choice but to expose his greatest weakness to...well, she wasn't so much of an enemy anymore was she...but still. He didn't trust her enough to want her to see this, but there wasn't any choice. He grabbed Theo's hands, buying time and making resistance easier.

'Wards?' he barked at the frightened professor.

'Already up.' She answered grimly, face white but eye determind.

'Do me a favour?' he turned to her for a moment. She nodded. He'd never seen her look so uncertain. He needed to project a lot of confidence here. She was wavering and he needed her on his side.

'Silence me.' He asked. Her eyes filled with tears that he hated. He didn't need pity. He wasn't suffering. Not really. The screaming was just inconvenient in an enclosed space. Didn't want to have to trust her wards, and didn't want the aforementioned body waking up and being another potential blackmailer.

All credit to her though, she did it.

He felt the spell hit, tested it, smiled slightly, taking a deep breath of the darkness that inhabited the room... and let go. Theo's hand was on his wand before he could finish exhaling, and the white hot pain of the cruciatus was racing through his bones. At least Theo had had enough presence of mind to restrict himself to that. It was dull, and not particularly satisfying for either of them anymore, but it took the edge off the craving and that was what Theo needed right now. They'd have to have a proper session later, Blaise thought absently. And then the pain ramped up a notch and Blaise lost himself in it.

XxXxX

He came round to Theo looking guilty as hell and McGonagall sunk onto the floor where she had been standing. He opened his mouth to address her but no sound came out. He rolled his eyes and gesticulated vaguely with an aching arm. She seemed to snap out of her trance and quickly lifted the silencer. By this point, Theo was carefully pulling Blaise into a sitting position, leaning the other boy against his shoulder (still shaking, dammit)

'Zabini...'McGonagall began.

'Why did you send for us?' Blaise cut her off, his voice hoarse from the silencer...or the cruciatus.

'I sent for you, Zabini. Nott came of his own accord, and will leave of his own accord before we discuss this matter.' Her eyes had turned steely. Theo froze for a moment at her icy tone before beginning to move away from behind Blaise. Blaise snatched his hand, stopping him, glaring at McGonagall. She didn't need to know that Theo was the only thing keeping him upright right now.

'Whatever you brought me here for concerns him. He knows as much as I do, if not more. I'll tell him everything the moment I leave this room anyway.' Blaise answered, matching steel with steel.

'I need this to be a safe environment, Zabini. I can't afford to allow violence into my office. No student can be at risk here. I can't just stand by and let students be victimised.' she continued with profound guilt in her eyes now.

Oh, he did not like that implication.

'Theo's safer to be around than I am.' He shot back, squeezing Theo's hand in support, hoping that Theo wasn't taking this to heart even as he knew it was a futile hope. Her eyes got inexplicably sadder.

'Mr. Zabini, I just watched him perform a highly illegal and highly dangerous, not to mention painful, curse on a classmate. In what way does that classify him as safe?' she challenged.

So maybe she didn't understand after all.

'He won't attack anyone else. I trust him with my life. With more than that. Please, professor. He'll be more helpful than me. He's the one who told me about the addiction to begin with.' (I'm sick of being the one that everyone turns to when they need help with this thing)

'Well... on your head be it, Zabini. There will be no further cursing within this office though. Control, Mr. Nott. I was assured that you had it.' Her voice was thick with disapproval, bordering on anger. Theo hung his head and Blaise squeezed his arm where he still hadn't relinquished it.

'Glad that's settled. What's the problem, professor? I've got 'homework' to be getting back to...' Blaise distracted, chancing a quick smirk and an innuendo and being rewarded with a softened expression from McGonagall and a long suffering sigh from Theo.

'Miss Weasley is the problem.' She said, indicating the unmoving body that still lay on the desk. Blaise struggled to standing, leaning heavily on Theo for support.

'What the hell happened to her?' he asked, noting the paleness, old bruises overlaying the new, old scars showing where her shirt had been ripped.

'I don't know. Longbottom brought her to my door. Said he'd found her in a corridor like this.'

'Without any shoes?' Blaise asked, indicating the Weaslette's feet.

'Exactly. I put her to sleep and checked her over. She's healing as much as she can. She has been hit by numerous dark curses over the past weeks. Tonight was, as far as I can tell, overload.'

'So some idiot Gryffindor annoyed the Carrows once too many times. Why is this our problem?' Blaise asked.

'Because Longbottom said to ask you what had happened to her. He said... he said that...' she hesitated.

'She smells like you.' Theo finished. Eyes dead and empty and hands shaking as he fisted them in Blaise's sleeves.

XxXxXx

'She what?' Blaise turned to Theo as best he could while remaining within the protective grip of Theo's arms.

'I would be interested to know what you meant by that as well, Mr. Nott' McGonagall's voice was back at icy levels of coldness. Blaise rolled his eyes and focused on Theo.

'Remember the first time. You set me off worse than anything... you set all of us off badly. The way it clung to you changed. I've got used to you over the months, but she's... she's different to you but the same level of potency and power. The same type of smell. That's what made me lose control.'

'What does that mean though?' Blaise asked. Theo held his gaze.

'You know what it means. It means she's like you.' Theo answered, looking over at the beat up girl lying on McGonagall's desk. Blaise followed his gaze, trying to wrap his head around it.

Ginny Weasley, like him. He wasn't the only one. Of course, he'd known intellectually that this couldn't be that uncommon. There were hundreds of students in the school. Logically, he couldn't be the only one, but to actually know someone... Someone who might understand, really understand. Theo came close, but there were parts that even he couldn't fathom, no matter how he tried.

Pity it was a bloody Gryffindor really.

'Would either of you care to explain to me exactly what's going on here?' McGonagall snapped peevishly, obviously not liking the implications of what she'd seen, but not fully understanding them either.

'Ummm... to be honest, professor, I'd rather not. Can I speak to her? We'll sort out what happened and make sure nothing like this ever happens again.' Blaise answered. McGonagall's lips thinned.

'Mr Zabini. I have had two of my students seriously attacked tonight. One had to be carried to my room unconscious. That makes this, whatever it is, very much my business.'

'I'm sorry, professor, but the condition of me helping you out here is that I won't tell you everything. I can talk to the Weasley, make sure nothing like this happens again. I'll even explain to bloody Longbottom but I refuse to discuss my personal business with you. I'm sorry.' He didn't have the words to tell her. For all he'd said to Theo over the months, there was still too much shame to contend with.

'And this has nothing to do with the little display you put on when you arrived, Mr. Nott? I'm not stupid. How long have you been using humans instead of rats? Doubtless they're not all as willing as Mr. Zabini here. How can I leave you alone with this girl without some assurance that she will be safe? You said yourself that she... how did you put it 'made you lose control'. Can you give me any guarantee that these students will be safe if I leave them in your company at the moment? I can see you shaking.'

And suddenly it wasn't about his shame anymore. Theo's hands were clasping his forearms now, trying to get purchase beyond his sleeves. Blaise wasn't sure who was holding who up anymore. He could feel the tremors going through his arms, provoked this time by fury, no addiction. It was a startling new development.

'How many times do I need to tell you? Theo won't hurt anyone. He doesn't hurt anyone.' He spat.

'Except you...' Theo's voice was quiet, devoid of all emotion. Blaise cursed under his breath, wishing he'd never brought Theo here. He didn't need to hear this from narrow minded idiots. This was none of her business, but if she was going to make Theo feel guilty... He shook off Theo's hands and turned to face him, cursing himself for a moment when he saw how hard Theo was shaking and carefully returning his hands to an arm, giving him something to hold on to.

'Look. Fine. This is nothing to do with Theo. Until the start of this year, he wouldn't hurt a fly. He's the kindest person I've ever known. But then the addiction happened, to both of us, to all of us. But I'm different. I'm...' He couldn't get the word out. McGonagall was still glaring at Theo though, still blaming him for this, even though it was completely and utterly Blaise's fault. And Theo was staring at the floor, gripping Blaise's arm as if that was the only thing keeping him standing, shaking with need and controlling himself, because that's what he did. He was controlling himself so that he didn't expose Blaise's weakness further, didn't put him at a disadvantage in front of an enemy. (because she'd forced him to see himself how she saw him) And Blaise couldn't just leave him like that. No matter what it cost him.

'It's called masochism.' He said, eyes fixed on Theo because he couldn't say it to her. He hadn't even said it to Theo out loud before. 'I'm wired differently. And Theo and I have a mutually beneficially arrangement. He's...he's everything. I love him. Have done for years. And when I realised...about me, I asked him to help me. And he did.' He reached up with his free hand, forcing Theo to meet his eyes. 'And I'll never be able to thank him enough for it.'

Theo smiled weakly at him before returning his eyes resolutely to the floor, obviously fighting for control. Blaise let him take what refuge he could, taking a deep breath before returning his eyes defiantly to McGonagall, who looked shell shocked.

'So when you say Miss Weasley's like you, you mean...' she began.

'That's exactly what I mean. Now, will you give us some privacy to explain it to her, because trust me, it's not a fun thing to explore alone.'

'Ummm... yes. Of course. I'll just... you can have to room for as long as you wish.' She still looked completely wrong footed as she made her way towards the door. She paused for a moment with her hand on the door handle.

'Mr Nott... I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions...' her voice was quiet. Of course it was. Gryffindors didn't like to admit they were wrong. And then she was gone, and they were left alone in the room with the Weaslette and a lot of explaining to do.

Brilliant.

XxXxXx

The Weaslette didn't wake up for over an hour. By the time she stirred, Blaise was carefully wrapping the last few gashes in his left arm while Theo rinsed his mouth out with a goblet of conjured water. The room was clean at least. Theo had dealt with it the moment he'd been sure that Blaise was going to be ok. They didn't know how long they had, but Blaise knew that trying to deal with her in the state Theo had been in was close to impossible, and definitely more than he was willing to ask.

As it was, he quickly finished the binding as she began to move, glancing at Theo who had banished the water and was crossing the room with him. He held up a warning hand.

'One at a time, maybe? We don't know what happened.' Blaise asked, hoping Theo would see the logic, rather than taking it as acknowledgement of the fact that she was more likely to be scared of him.

'Seamus?' she murmured, reaching out to him as her eyes cracked open wearily, unfocused. Blaise carefully avoided her hand.

'Sorry Weaslet...Weasley. Your boyfriend's not here right now.' Blaise answered, trying to keep the condescension out of his tone. Her eyes snapped open as she recognised him and the reaction was almost immediate. She was off the table in a flash, levelling a wand at him even as she flinched from the pain ricocheting through her partially healed scars. Blaise blinked, surprised. He'd known she was a Gryffindor, but he wouldn't have thought even they were stupid enough to take on two armed assailants after over an hour unconscious due, most likely, to Dark Arts torture spells.

But then, underestimating the stupidity of Gryffindors seemed to be his full time occupation these days.

He sighed and, against all reflex, dropped him wand to the floor, knowing Theo had him covered from the other corner of the room.

'Look, Weasley. I'm not here to hurt you.' He tried, placating.

'Oh really? Then how did I get here? Where am I anyway?' she looked around, recognising McGonagall's office belatedly and doubling her grip on her wand to stop it from shaking with her hands.

'My guess is that somebody got carried away and scared, and came to McGonagall for help, and she asked us.' Blaise explained, taking a step closer and watching her steel herself against the impulse to attack.

'And she called in a Slytherin? Yeah right. Get out of my way, snake.' She motioned with her wand towards the door. Obviously she hadn't seen Theo yet.

'Afraid I can't until we've had a bit of a chat, Weasley. You see, Longbottom seemed to be under the impression that we had things to discuss when he carried your unconscious body in here, and you've been enough trouble to us already. I suggest you sit down, shut up and listen to what we've got to say so you can get out of here and we can go back to loathing each other. Sound good to you?'

She caught sight of Theo as he stepped forward at that and Blaise could see her visibly pale. She might have stood a chance against him, wandless for the moment and alone, but she didn't have a hope of escaping the two of them in the state she was in. He could almost see the moment where logic took over from Gryffindor stupidity and she slipped out of fighting stance, moving back against the wall so she couldn't be snuck up on, and also, he suspected, to hold her up.

She was still looking at him like he was a serial killer, but at least she was willing to listen. Longbottom was going to owe him so bad when this was over.

'Look, I don't know what kind of deal you've got going in your house, but I can guess. It looks like you've been six rounds with a giant and lost. I know the kind of curses that leave those marks.' He tried to keep his voice level and emotionless.

'I'm no victim, snake.' She hissed back, gripping her wand tighter, 'What happens in my house is none of your damn business.'

'It is when you mess up so bad that McGonagall calls me in. For God's sake, who the hell didn't stop when you passed out? Were they really craving that badly or do they genuinely not care if they do permanent damage? If they're that bad, they've left it too long between hits, even if they are using rats to supplement. The craving just gets stronger when you're using it like we do, but there are spells that are way more effective and don't lead to this kind of damage, for fuck's sake...'

She stood frozen for a second. Blaise started to regret his outburst, but seriously, what idiotic Gryffindor had tried to ignore this for so long that this had been the result? Willing or not, it was downright dangerous what they'd done.

'What do you mean, we?' she asked, her voice quieter than he'd ever heard it. He glanced at Theo. He wasn't sure he'd meant to say that. Of course, it would be nice to know that someone thought the same. Of course it would be great if someone understood, to know that there was someone here who was fucked up in the same way he was, but... he didn't trust Weasley. There was no getting around that. She was a Weasley, and a Gryffindor, and everything he'd hated since the time he was old enough to hate.

But she was like him. He remembered how scary it had been in the beginning. How if he hadn't had Theo telling him for months that they were in this together, he'd have struggled even to admit what he'd felt. He remembered all the time spent researching, trying to convince himself that he was normal, wasn't a freak of nature because he liked something so vile, something that nobody else could possibly imagine liking. Something that even Theo, wonderful, amazing Theo in all his tolerance and acceptance, struggled with sometimes and couldn't bear to be on the receiving end of. And here was someone who knew exactly what he was going through. Someone in the same boat. How could he not? Even if she was a Gryffindor...

'We. You and me. Why do you think Longbottom told McGonagall to get me? He could smell it on you like he could smell it on me.' Though the level of darkness that suggested in Longbottom was worrying in itself.

'I know you like it.' He finished. 'I like it too.' Plain and simple. She couldn't possibly misunderstand. Even if he hoped she would.

Her eyes flicked to Theo as he moved a step closer, just in case, but it wasn't necessary. All the fight suddenly left her as she collapsed to the floor under the weight of her injuries and Blaise grabbed his wand and moved closer. She flinched when he touched her.

'I'm not gonna hurt you. I don't need to. I'm not craving right now, as you can probably tell.' He held his hand out, rather unnecessarily pointing out the lack of shaking, 'and even if I was... you wouldn't be the one who would be getting hurt.'

She met his eyes at that, nodding once and allowing him to help her into McGonagall's desk chair and start casting diagnostic spells, checking that she was alright.

Weird how good at healing he was getting these days. Of course, Theo was better- he had to be- but he didn't want to overwhelm her, and he was definitely less threatening in the light of his admission. He noticed Theo edging closer, watching him work, and checking he was doing it right. He smiled a little at that, reassured.

'Look, Weas... Ginny' she bristled but allowed it, 'whatever arrangement you've got, it's not working. You're exhausted. You're not recovering nearly as quickly as you should be. You wanna let us know what's going on so we can advise you, or do you just wanna bury your head in the sand and maybe not wake up next time?'

She looked mutinous, but she wasn't quite that stupid.

'When people are craving, like badly craving, I volunteer. Let them have a go. They leave happy. Seamus usually makes sure I'm alright afterwards, but today he got hit badly by Alecto. He can't get out of bed. I wasn't going to... not until he was well enough to watch out for me, but Jack Sloper nearly killed Colin, right in the middle of the Common Room. We had to body bind him to stop him, so I... well...I had to. Neville... he doesn't understand...doesn't know about me... but he promised Seamus he'd keep me safe. He didn't know how much I could take though. He let it go too far. Last thing I remember was Neville dragging Jack off right before I passed out.'

'What, you just let anyone who wants to take a shot?' Theo gasped from the other side of the room, greeted by two glares.

'It's a trust thing. Just because I can't trust anyone else... and for good reason it seems...' Blaise began.

'Doesn't mean I don't.' She finished for him. 'I know my house don't want to hurt me. Not really. And Seamus is usually there. He knows what I can take.'

'Sure he does.' Theo said, disbelief evident in his voice. Blaise sighed.

'You know how much I can take?' he asked.

'Course I do.'

'Well then.'

'But we're...' Blaise waited a few seconds until it clicked. 'Oh' Theo nodded towards Ginny. 'Fair enough.'

'But Ginny, you've gotta know you're close to burning out. It's getting too much. You can't just keep doing this indefinitely. We weren't lying when we said it only makes the addiction worse in the long run.'

'You think we don't know that? Why d'you think Seamus was in so much trouble with Alecto? They tend not to like it when you're late for class cos you were busy ripping rats to bits in the nearest broom cupboard. For a lot of them, there's no other option. We started this. We let them at me and it made their addiction so bad they can't survive without hurting me. That makes this our...my responsibility. At least until the end of school when they can get out and detox. Until then, I'll just have to suck it up.' The fight was back in her eyes now. Typical Gryffindor, ready to take on the world without thinking it through.

'You think you're gonna be able to last that long?' Theo asked, quietly. They could all see how beat she was.

'I'm just gonna have to. Unless you're volunteering?' she asked, bitter sarcasm ringing in her voice.

'He's not.' Theo answered before Blaise had to. Blaise was glad. If he'd been left to the decision, he might've said yes. The guilt he felt when the others were craving and the rats weren't enough and he couldn't just let them... But he couldn't. If they were going to get out of this, he needed his strength, his sanity. He just wasn't strong enough to do what she was doing.

'Well then, if you boys are done, I need to get back and check on Seamus.' She moved away from the wall, putting her wand back in her pocket and moving slowly towards the door.

'Hey, Weasley,' Blaise called after her.

'What, Zabini?'

'Explain to Longbottom. He's in this deep enough that he could tell the difference between you and me and everyone else. Maybe he can find another idiot to help clear up your mess.' Blaise answered. She hesitated at the door.

'You've got nothing to be ashamed of.' He added.

'You neither, Zabini.' She answered and walked out.

XxXxXx


	12. Chapter Twelve

_Eight months and two days into term_

Blaise was woken by Daphne Greengrass that night, thank God. He was stark naked and curled around Theo, evidence of their earlier exploits still smeared across his skin and the bed. Slughorn had been sent to wake the house, but Daphne had volunteered to get them. Sometimes, he could kiss that girl. She was a good friend. Even after all of this.

Instead, he took her hand and pressed his lips to it. It wasn't goodbye, except in all the ways that it was.

It didn't take long to get presentable and out of the room (for the last time). He told himself he wasn't holding Theo's hand because he was scared. It was for support, because his legs weren't guaranteed to work after earlier. Of course it was.

The Great Hall was full of scared students.

_Terrified._

Of course they were. They were going to try and fight the most powerful Dark Wizard for over a hundred years. Gryffindor idiots. Weasley's family had returned out of the woodwork. All of them sat huddled together at the Gryffindor table, but she wasn't there. He hoped that was because they'd taken her somewhere safe, not because she'd finally been broken by the idiots of her house. He hadn't seen her for a few days. Finnigan was there though, beaten to hell as usual. And Longbottom, returned from his mysterious disappearance of the last few weeks.

In fact, the whole school was here.

He listened to McGonagall. Evacuation. A last ditch attempt to save at least some of them. He admired that about her. She wouldn't give up; if it meant a single student more would survive this hell. She wasn't going to force them into some heroic last stand bullshit that would more than likely end in a massacre.

And then Voldemort's voice filled the room and he unabashedly grabbed Theo's hand again, resisting the urge to bury his head in the other boy's collar. He said he wanted Potter, and Potter was here, and they weren't going to let him go.

_Stupid._

He looked around the room at the ashen faces of the men and women he'd grown up with, derided, argued with, fought with. The men and women who he'd played Quidditch against, seen triumph and fail. He remembered Finnigan's pitiful attempts at Transfiguration. He remembered Sloper and Peakes' ferocity on the Quidditch pitch. He remembered walking in on Corner and Chang at the back of the library and having his eyes opened against his will to the wilder streak of Ravenclaw House. He remembered watching Crabbe break Creevey's camera all those years ago, and feeling genuine guilt at the heartbreak in the kid's eyes. He remembered when MacMillan had, rather pompously, offered to lend him extra newt's eyes when he'd been short for a potion. He remembered Loony Lovegood, and Hannah Abbott, and Lavender Brown and the Patil twins and

They were going to give it all up in the hope that Potter would save them all.

He barely heard Pansy's tirade, until the whole school was baring down on their table. Stupid girl. She should've known how stupidly noble they were. And then he heard McGonagall's order to leave and tried not to feel guilty about the relief that bloomed in his heart. He wasn't going to die tonight. He'd decided long ago that he wasn't made for stupidity, or for heroics. He would take risks for what he loved, but right now that was Theo and nothing else in the world. They'd made their stupid decision. They had to suffer the consequences of it.

He couldn't help but wonder as he left the hall, how many of those angry faces would her ever see again?

Through corridors, following the back of Daphne's head as she walked ahead with her arm around her little sister's shoulders. Draco ducked out somewhere on the second floor. He ignored it. Not his problem anymore. If Draco was going to be dumb enough to get involved in this massacre, it was his own fault whatever happened to him.

Through a tunnel, still sticking as close to Theo as possible, trying to reassure himself that they were together, safe, getting the hell out of a situation that would only ever end in death. Deaths. Plural. Multiple. Hundreds, most likely.

And then he was in the kitchen of a pub in Hogsmede, holding tightly to Theo's hand still. Daphne and her sister stood in front of them, ready for freedom. A crack and then they were gone

He wrapped himself around the man beside him, focusing on his family's summer house, near Geneva in Switzerland. Then he whirled around and felt the squeezing sensation of apparition take hold of him. He was away from the madness. He was safe.

He just wished that taking the smart route didn't feel so much like running away...


End file.
